


Do What I Have To

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8065171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: The guys do what they feel they have to. (11/26/2004)





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This was a strange one for me. It started off as just a little thing based on a Sarah M song (lyrics to which can be found at the end) but grew. As I said to Leah, this is what happens when you keep your bunnies locked up for a year and only feed them on half thought through plot ideas and snatches of conversation.  
  
Thanks To the lovely people who helped my out with this, especially Sue, who really worked hard on this and without her encouragement I wouldn't have written it. Also, Leah (thanks for the advice, it was invaluable). Plus anyone I ranted at, I know there's a lot of you!  
  
Beta'd by Sue and Leah.  


* * *

"You slept with her?" Malcolm looked down as he ran his fingers over the smooth surface of his desk.

"Yeah," Trip's voice was quiet; it felt like Malcolm was hearing him from a long way off.

"I think," Malcolm managed eventually, when he had regained the use of his voice, "you should leave."

"Okay," Trip got slowly to his feet from is position on the edge of Malcolm's bed, then paused. "Is that a, 'I think you'd better leave for now because I'm mad but we'll talk later' or..." he left the sentence hanging not wanting to say the words.

"Or," Malcolm answered, looking up and meeting the steady gaze of the other man, and then finished so there could be no misunderstanding, "We're over, Trip."

The commander looked like he was about to reply but seemed to think better of it. He simply nodded and left the room. Malcolm didn't watch him leave but waited until he heard the door close before standing up himself and heading toward his bathroom. He undressed slowly, all his energy gone and then climbed under the spray. He briefly felt the heat of his tears falling down his cheeks until they were lost in the sensation of the water. By the time he stepped out of the shower they were gone. He crawled into bed and refused to let himself think about what had just happened until he fell asleep.

* * *

Hoshi smiled as she looked up from her breakfast at the figure placing a food tray down at her table, "Hey, Lieutenant, how are you?"

"Fine," Malcolm sipped at his tea, frowned at the heat and set it back down.

She paused for a moment looking at the lieutenant, taking in his drawn features. "We still on for tomorrow? I'll bring the wine if you bring the chocolate?"

Malcolm pushed his pancake about the plate a bit not looking up before noticing that something was required of him, "Sorry, what?"

Hoshi sighed, "Malcolm, what's wrong? You don't look like you've slept at all. Did you and Trip fight or something?"

"Or something," it was Malcolm's turn to sigh as he ran a hand over his tired eyes, "We broke up."

Hoshi's eyes widened with shock, "What? Why? What happened?"

"It was what he wanted," Malcolm shrugged, "It's been coming for a while now."

Hoshi shook her head, "You mean he broke up with you?"

"I said the actual words," He clarified, "but he made his feelings pretty clear."

"I just can't believe it," Hoshi said shaking her head again and leaning back in her seat, "You guys always seemed so..." She looked at Malcolm again, "You okay?"

The lieutenant sighed and pushed his untouched food away from him, "I'm not sure, I suppose so. You know what they say," he said, trying to smile and nearly managing it, "what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger."

"You're taking this well," Hoshi commented, sounding half disbelieving half worried.

Malcolm shrugged again, "Like I said, it's been coming for awhile now."

Hoshi looked at him for a long while trying to decide whether to push the lieutenant on the subject. In the end she smiled sadly at him, "Listen," she said, covering Malcolm's hand with her smaller one, "if you need to talk, I'm here."

"I know," Malcolm managed a better impression of a smile, "thanks."

"I'm really sorry but I'll be late for my shift if I don't leave now," Hoshi stood, her face screwed up in worry, clearly in two minds about whether to leave, "I'll see you later, okay?"

Malcolm nodded mutely and watched as she walked out of the messhall. Malcolm half smiled; that had been what he had been most dreading. Watching people's shocked faces turn to pity as he told them was the worst part. He had known it was coming. Had even known that Trip had been unfaithful before the other man had told him, it was just a gut feeling, but Malcolm had learned to trust these feelings over the years. It came as a real shock when he'd found out who Trip had cheated on him with; he hadn't seen that one coming. It still hurt, though, when Trip had just got up and left without a fight, had just accepted it. He tried not to remember the almost grateful looked Trip had given him when Malcolm had finally said the words.

He supposed he was taking it well. He and Trip had been together for quite awhile now, a few months before the attack on Earth. It was just that the feeling was so overwhelming that it sort of shorted his sense.

Malcolm understood Trip's reasons for doing what he did. The commander was simply trying to protect himself. Something Malcolm knew a lot about. Loss was painful and certainly not something that Trip was used to dealing with. It was an easy conclusion to draw; love was a risk. They had both known that starting a relationship with someone who was constantly putting their life on the line was dangerous. At least Malcolm had thought that Trip had known that. But things had changed when he'd experienced it first hand.

Malcolm could see it coming, see the walls begin to go up and was powerless to stop them. Their relationship had been too rocky at that point to risk pushing Trip and now it was too late. Trip was doing what he had to do in order to protect himself and cutting ties with Malcolm seemed the most logical thing to do. Malcolm himself had considered doing the same but hadn't had the courage. Trip would have talked him out of it anyway, just as Malcolm would have done for him. Maybe that was why Trip had resorted to sleeping with T'Pol. Maybe he couldn't see another way out. Malcolm understood the reasons and it didn't help one little bit.

With the certainty that he knew that their break-up was what Trip wanted but was too afraid to ask for, he knew that he would love the other man until the day he died. It shook Malcolm to the core to know how much he loved Trip. More than his job, more than this mission, more than his life. Not that he'd ever let the commander know that. It would hurt Trip if he had any idea what their break-up was doing to Malcolm and Malcolm wouldn't allow that. He just wanted to give the commander some sort of peace. He sighed and pulled himself out of his spiral of thoughts, he was late for his shift, he should really have left with Hoshi. It didn't matter. Not so long as Trip didn't find out.


	2. Part 2

It was a week later that T'Pol raised an eyebrow at him as he entered the bridge, no doubt silently letting him know of her disapproval of his lateness. It was the third time that week. He didn't know why it kept happening but he just zoned out and forgot about the time. It was getting out of hand he knew. He nodded curtly at the Vulcan before taking his place at the Tactical Station. Hoshi looked over at him and smiled in sympathy. He had been surprised to find that he wasn't mad at T'Pol. She didn't known about him and Trip, only the Captain and a few select others had. They'd been very careful not to let anyone else know at first, then they'd started to have problems and it had seemed a bad idea to let others know. At that moment Captain Archer entered the bridge.

"Ah, there you are, Lieutenant," he said, his voice clipped. "I think we'd better have a word when you've finished your shift?"

Malcolm nodded, it was going to be a long day.

He managed to get through the entire shift pretty much on auto-pilot. He ran some simulations and diagnostics, answered any question put directly to him. It wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be. When the time came, he followed the captain to his ready room.

"You were twenty minutes late this morning, Mr Reed, again," Jon informed him, after the door closed behind them, his voice was still tight with annoyance. "I left for engineering ten minutes after your shift started and you weren't at your post," Jon answered the question that Malcolm was silently asking.

"I'm very sorry, sir, it won't happen again." Malcolm stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the far wall.

"You're sorry?" Jon sighed heavily, "and what if something had happened while you weren't at your station? I would have thought you of all people would be aware of the dangers, lieutenant."

"I..." Malcolm could feel it welling up inside him. _Oh no, not now, he was NOT going to cry in front of the Captain_ Malcolm tightened his jaw and breathed in sharply through his nose.

Jon watched the other man in astonishment as Malcolm's eyes began to glisten. "Lieutenant?" he asked, moving forward and reaching out a hand to the other man's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"Ah," Malcolm paused, trying to think of some sort of explanation.

"Malcolm," Jon's voice had softened now, his eyes only showing genuine concern, "talk to me."

"Captain," Malcolm had finally managed to push his feelings down and regain control over himself, "I—"

 

The captain held up a hand to stop him, "I meant that Malcolm should talk to his friend Jon, not that a Lieutenant should inform his captain what is going on."

"Sorry, Jon."

At the use of his first name the captain's eyebrows rose, it wasn't like Malcolm to accept that sort of informality so readily. "Okay," Jon nodded, "carry on."

"I...that is to say...umm," Malcolm shifted uncomfortably.

"So, it's about Trip?" Jon asked, his mouth turning up at the corners a little. That was the only subject that made his armoury office squirm quite like that.

"Yes," Malcolm nodded gratefully, he took a deep breath before continuing, "we broke up last week."

"Oh," Jon said, sitting down on the couch and motioning for Malcolm to do the same. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"You don't seem nearly as surprised as Hoshi," Malcolm commented as he took a seat next to the other man.

"I thought Trip might do something stupid," Jon replied, not looking at Malcolm.

"What makes you think that it was him that-?" Malcolm started before Jon cut him off.

"What did he do? Just break up with you or what?"

"He...I..." Malcolm sighed, "he slept with someone else."

"Oh, I'm sorry Malcolm," Jon looked at him and smiled sadly, "That's horrid."

"Oh, it gets worse," Malcolm laughed mirthlessly, a feeling of elation at finally being able to talk about it, sweeping him on, "I think it was just a way out for him. He couldn't bring himself to break-up with me and so did something knowing full well that I'd do it for him. Now that," Malcolm nodded, "is just plain embarrassing. I mean that's the actions of a desperate man, he obviously just _really_ wanted shot of me."

"Are you sure?" Jon looked unconvinced, "I mean, maybe it was just a stupid mistake. It does happen..."

"With T'Pol, Jon? No, I think not."

"With...?" Jon trailed off and shook his head. "Well, I'll be..." he looked at the lieutenant again, "I am sorry."

"As we both know, it was something that was bound to happen eventually. Trip wanted out. You know that as well as I do."

"But it's so stupid, he needs you now more than ever and—"

"I rather think that's the point, don't you?" Malcolm questioned with the raise of an eyebrow. "If he leant on me now and then something happened to me he'd collapse like a house of cards. This way he's independent. It works better."

"That sounds like something..." Jon trailed off, flushing a little.

"I'd say?" Malcolm asked, smiling. "It would have been. Changed my mind somewhat since then."

"Isn't there someway that you two might patch things up?" Jon asked.

"No, he doesn't want that," Malcolm shook his head and tried not to think about that too much, he didn't think he would have the control to stop himself crying a second time.

"Yeah, but what about what you want? Surely you could try—"

"No!" Malcolm almost shouted, "Are you listening? He's not interested. Why are you pushing this?" it was more of a plea than a question.

"I'm sorry," Jon said quickly, looking upset. He paused to collect his thoughts before continuing, "I suppose I just worry enough about you both as it is and I'd worry less if were together," Jon leant forward and ran a hand through his hair. Malcolm noticed for the first time how tired the Captain looked.

"You've got the weight of the world on your shoulders," Malcolm said softly, unconsciously echoing the words Trip had said at the beginning of this mission, "Try not to add mine as well."

Jon sighed, "It doesn't really make that much difference at this point."

Malcolm watched the other man for a moment trying to decide if he should just wait until Jon started talking again or try a new tact. His question was answered when Jon continued to speak without prompting.

"I'm so scared that we're out here on some wild goose chase. What if we can't do this? I just keep thinking that I don't want to be one of the last eighty-one humans in the universe. No one on this ship would ever forgive me. I would never forgive me. If the world ends I want to be there when it does, you know? It takes all my will power not to turn us around and go home and just wait for the Xindi to attack. Isn't that terrible?"

Malcolm smiled, "Sometimes I just hope that they've already got the damn weapon and that they'd just use it already. That way I can stop feeling so bloody afraid that I'm gonna fail and just find a nice planet and set up a new colony."

Jon's head shot up in surprise, a small smile threatening he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Any particular type?"

"I thought maybe a nice Gas Giant," Malcolm answered with a grin and for good measure added a wink.

Jon chuckled looking down at the floor and when he turned to head to face the lieutenant he looked so grateful and suddenly Malcolm was enveloped in a hug, "Thank you," Jon said eventually.

"You're welcome," Malcolm answered, muffled by the other man's uniform, he gently extracted himself from the hug, keeping his hand on Jon's shoulder, "would you like to get something to eat and continue this conversation? I know that I'd welcome the excuse not to think about other aspects of my life." He couldn't really explain what had made him open up to the captain like that, maybe he was just too exhausted to argue. Whatever it was it seemed like the right thing to do and now he'd started he found he didn't want to stop. Besides it looked like Jon really needed the company and it was refreshing to know that he wasn't the only one who was messed up.

Jon meanwhile was smiling at him. It struck Malcolm that he hadn't seen the captain smile like that in a long time. Too long. "I'd like that."

Malcolm smiled back at him. "Shall I fetch us some food and we'll talk in here, or..."

"How about my place? It'd be more comfortable than my mess and there's less chance of people interrupting us than if we stay here."

"Sounds great, I'll meet you there." As he left the room, Malcolm found that he was breathing a little easier, he found that he was actually looking forward to chatting to Jon some more.


	3. Part 3

Over the next few weeks, Malcolm and Jon spent the majority of their time-off together. They would meet up and just talk and Malcolm found that he really enjoyed it. They would talk about what they had done that day, their fears, hopes and sometimes about the past. It was a relief to finally be able to talk about all of those feelings. It made the days without Trip a little more bearable and it looked like Jon was sleeping better too. Malcolm was glad to help and that he was getting help in return made it all the better.

He was worried, though. They'd got no further with the Xindi for a couple of weeks now and he could see Jon getting more and more wound up. He knew that it would all boil over soon, he just wasn't sure how. He sighed as he walked into the gym, hoping to work off some of his nervous energy. Exhausting himself in the gym before heading back to his quarters was the only way he had found that he could sleep. As he walked in, however, he heard laughter and turned to see where it was coming from. What he saw made him stagger and he was forced to clutch the doorframe for support. Trip was in a corner and with a very broad smile on his face, was leaning in to kiss a woman. It was a MACO, Malcolm couldn't see which one, his view was blocked by Trip. The kiss was slow at first but soon became more urgent as the woman's hands came up and buried themselves in the commander's hair.

Finally Malcolm found his legs and lurched out of the gym and found himself in the hall. He was panting heavily. Shock, he supposed. Not that it mattered really, whatever it was he knew he had to keep moving, no doubt Trip and whoever she was would be coming out of the gym and heading towards one of their quarters. He had to get away, they couldn't see him. He began to move down the corridor, heading back to his own quarters. He got there and keyed in the access code and, without bothering to turn on the lights, flopped down on his bed. It felt a little like the room was spinning and he closed his eyes.

He had known that it would happen sooner or later, it was just the sort of guy Trip was. He attracted people to him like moths to a flame and once they were there Trip usually found no reason to make them go away. Malcolm wondered if she knew how dangerous that flame was right now. Maybe it didn't matter, who knew what she wanted from Trip?

His comm. beeped, the sound seemingly unreasonably loud in the quiet of his room.

"Yeah?" Malcolm sighed as he answered, it dimly struck to him that this wasn't very appropriate response if this was a business call. He didn't care.

"Malcolm?" it was Jon, and the lieutenant tried not to sigh again.

"It's me," he confirmed.

"Can you come over?" Jon sounded strange, his voice was small, almost childlike.

"I'm not sure, Jon, I just..." 'want to curl up and die,' didn't seem like an appropriate answer somehow and he searched for a different one.

Jon cut off his search with a gentle plea that Malcolm simply couldn't ignore, "Please, Malcolm, I need you."

"I'll be right there."

Malcolm was up and out of the door before he had a chance to think. He was simply reacting, not something that was really like him and he didn't care. Being Malcolm Reed had meant that he hadn't even tried and get Trip to see sense, and now it was too late. Malcolm was sick of being him and it was time for a change. He'd let his instincts guide him for awhile and see where they led him.

When he got to Jon's door he reached up to ring the chime to let the other man know of his arrival. The door opened almost immediately and Malcolm was hauled inside. He heard the door close behind him before lips where on his. His eyes widened in shock as he was roughly pushed back against the door and Jon pressed himself against Malcolm. The lieutenant resisted for a moment before melting back into the kiss, he wrapped his arms around the other man and held him close. The kiss was desperate and intense and lasted for only a few moments before Jon pulled back gasping for air and looking completely shocked. Whether it was at his own actions or Malcolm's reaction to them the lieutenant couldn't be sure.

"I'm so sorry, Malcolm, I shouldn't have—" Jon started.

Malcolm walked right up to the other man and took hold of him, "Shut up," he ordered before crushing their lips together. Malcolm was surprised that Jon didn't hesitate in responding to the kiss.

So, Malcolm mused as he lay spooned against Jon later that night, this is where his instincts had led him. They'd led him into the arms of another man, his captain no less. He remembered the way he had reprimanded the captain for his relaxed attitude to his command when he'd been pinned to the hull of the ship. He chuckled at the thought; it was strange how things changed. Jon's arms tightened around his waist, probably in protest at the noise.

"What's funny?" he mumbled sleepily, nuzzling the back of Malcolm's neck as he spoke.

"Nothing," Malcolm answered, "just thinking about things."

"Hmm," Jon answered already slipping off to sleep again. Malcolm stayed awake for awhile trying not to think about what Trip was doing now. Was what he had just done to spite Trip? Had he had sex with Jon, Trip's best friend, to get back at the other man? No, he didn't think it was, it may be a part of it, but that wasn't the whole story. He didn't want to go over the reasons now. He was tired and no doubt Jon would want to talk about it tomorrow anyway. He let himself drift off to sleep, feeling strangely safe, curled up in Jon's arms.


	4. Part 4

Malcolm woke the next morning and was rather disturbed to find that he wasn't in his own bed. He blinked a few times as the previous night came back to him. He felt an uncomfortable weight settle in his stomach as he remembered Trip in the gym. Then as he thought about what had happened when he'd got to the captain's quarters he rolled over. He met the gaze of green eyes and felt a smile pulling at his lips.

"Well," Jon said, a small smiling of his own forming, "that was one of the better reactions that I'd thought you might have."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow, "What was the worst?"

"You jumped up screaming and ran from the room," Jon answered, his smile growing and lighting up his eyes.

"Huh," Malcolm nodded, "with or without my clothes on?"

Jon laughed, "I hadn't really thought."

Malcolm stretched and yawned. "Did you sleep okay?" he asked.

Jon looked surprised at the question, but nodded before returning the question.

"Yeah, after awhile. What time is it?" Malcolm asked, after a moments thought.

"We have a couple of hours before we have to be on the bridge, if that's what you mean," Jon answered.

"It was," Malcolm nodded as he stretched again, "I could do with a shower, do you mind if I have one here?"

"Not at all," Jon said, lying back with his hands behind his head.

"Thanks," Malcolm answered before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He suddenly felt embarrassed at his state of undress, although why he didn't know. After last night Jon had seen it all. He sat on the bed for a moment, not really sure what to do. In the end he decided to just get up and go. There was nothing else for it really and hopefully Jon had his eyes closed anyway. He made his way as quickly as he could without actually running into the bathroom.

When he came out with a towel wrapped around his waist he found Jon waiting outside the door. They smiled at each other as Jon went into the small room and a few moments later he heard the sounds of running water. He looked around the room and sighed as realised that he only had his gym clothes with him. He'd have to go back to his quarters and get his uniform, but decided to wait until Jon came out of the shower; he didn't want the other man to think he'd freaked out and left. He pulled on his grey sweats and blue T-Shirt and waited for Jon to come out of the shower.

Malcolm looked up as the door to the bathroom opened. He waited while Jon pulled on his uniform for a moment. "I have to head back to my quarters to get a uniform," Malcolm said, watching Jon towel dry his hair.

"Oh, okay." A tension filled the room, as the captain stood looking uncomfortable.

"Do you want to get breakfast?" Malcolm offered and immediately saw Jon sag in relief.

"Yeah," he sighed, "that'd be great, my mess?"

"Sure, I'll meet you there as soon as I'm done." Malcolm stood up and began to walk to the door and stopped at the sound of his name.

"Malcolm," Jon called, "about last night I'm—"

"Please don't say you're sorry," Malcolm requested, not looking at the other man but instead focusing on the door. "I'm not."

"I shouldn't have kissed you like that, I'm your captain, your friend and—" Jon sounded worried and confused.

Malcolm turned to look at him and smiled softly, "What happened last night was something that we both needed, probably for different reasons and that's okay. We're both adults and are capable of making those types of decisions. It doesn't have to happen again, if we don't want it to, and I for one really hope it doesn't affect our friendship. I personally don't think it has to." Malcolm nodded, silently pleased that what he was saying was what he really felt. After a moments thought he walked back to the bed and sat down and waited for Jon to join him.

"I don't want it to affect our friendship either," Jon said when he'd sat down, "I was just worried you might feel differently."

"I don't," Malcolm answered immediately. "So, why did you do it?"

"I..." Jon trailed off as he tried to think of the answer, "It was too much. This whole thing was too much. When I got off duty I came here I couldn't keep all of those old thoughts from coming back. About what would happen if..." he looked at Malcolm who was nodding his understanding. Jon didn't need to explain, his fear of failing this mission was something that he talked of often. "I just...I needed a release, needed something or I didn't know what I would do."  
Jon lapsed into silence, looking down at his hands, clasped in together in his lap.

"So," Malcolm started, not really sure he wanted an answer to his next question but knowing he had to ask, "it wasn't anything to do with _me_? It was about need?"

Jon looked up and studied Malcolm, "It was about you, too. Sometimes I feel like you're the only one I can talk to. I think Trip would be mad. He needs me to avenge his sister, he doesn't want to hear about failure...and there isn't...There's no one else I'd _want_ to tell. But, you, Malcolm, you seem to get it. I needed you, I didn't know how until I saw you at my door. I just reacted, maybe I shouldn't have but there it is."

"Okay," Malcolm nodded. This was a little unexpected, he hadn't thought it had _anything_ to do with him personally and he wasn't sure how to take Jon telling him that he needed him. He supposed that such honesty deserved nothing less in return. "I saw Trip with someone else in the gym last night," he said, giving Jon a sidelong look, "that's why I said I wasn't sure about coming over last night," Malcolm saw Jon open his mouth but cut him off before he could speak, "and before you ask, no, it wasn't spite. I thought about it last night and I think it may be more like you said: I needed something, I suppose a release is as good a word as any."

"So," Jon said slowly, clearly picking his words carefully, "if it was something we both needed and neither of us think it will affect anything, then I suppose it's all okay."

"I think," Malcolm said, he thought that now was the time for absolute honesty, "it may also have a _little_ to do with the fact that I do you attractive." He could feel his cheeks heat-up and cursed himself for it.

Jon chuckled, the sound was rich and filled with genuine happiness, when he spoke his tone was gently teasing, "Why thank you, Malcolm, that's sweet. And, well, I think the same and about you."

They sat there in an embarrassed silence neither looking at the other before Malcolm coughed and stood up. "Right," he said, sounding a little more business-like then he would have liked, "I have to get my uniform, I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Okay," Jon stood up too, "thanks for that, Malcolm, I'm glad we got it sorted out." He watched Malcolm for a while then asked, "Why don't I walk you? Then we can head straight to get breakfast," then added at Malcolm's amused look, "Obviously I just can't get enough of you."

"Well, of course not," Malcolm nodded his agreement and, laughing, the two men left the room.

Once outside, first Malcolm's then Jon's smiles died. Trip was kneeling a little way down the corridor with his tools at his side. Currently he was looking at the two men with a startled expression on his face. Malcolm recovered first and continued his journey down the corridor giving the commander a brief smile, which was not returned as he went by. Jon stood for a moment looking a little dazed before hurrying after Malcolm.

"You think he...?" Jon asked, gesturing to make his point.

"I don't know," Malcolm answered, trying not to appear as flustered as he was, "there are any number of reasons why I could have been visiting your quarters before my shift."

"What?" Jon hissed quietly, "with your hair still wet from a shower and wearing your gym gear?" Malcolm had no answer for that and continued to make his was quickly down the corridor. Jon looked worried, and Malcolm was disturbed to see that his shoulders sagged, as though he was carrying a great weight on his shoulders. It was always the same, whenever they stepped outside of Jon's quarters the reality of the situation always seemed to sink in, as much as they might like to pretend when they were alone together, the truth was that there wasn't all that much to be happy about these days.

"I'm sorry if this makes it even worse between you and Trip now," Jon said dejectedly, as they reached Malcolm's quarters.

"It's," Malcolm started to say that it was okay but stopped and thought it over some more. Finally he said, "I don't think it can get worse. Besides, he seems to have moved on anyway, so why should he care?" He tried very hard to keep the emptiness that engulfed him at the thought from creeping into his voice, and was successful in part.  
Jon sighed, "Listen, I just remembered I have some things to do before my shift, some reports to look over and I don't honestly have time for breakfast," at the crestfallen look on Malcolm's face he carried on, "I'm sorry, but I just can't."

As Malcolm watched Jon walk down the corridor he got the distinct impression that the captain wasn't just referring to breakfast. Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment and tried to keep himself from flying apart. It was something that he was getting good at doing, and it only took a few seconds before he opened his eyes and keyed-open the door to his quarters and went to get ready for the day ahead.

* * *

Malcolm hadn't expected to see Jon off duty for quiet awhile after they'd seen Trip in the hallway. He thought that the captain had been scared off the whole idea, and perhaps that would have been for the best. As it turned out, however, Jon had commed Malcolm late that night and asked the lieutenant over for a second time. Malcolm thought now that maybe he should have stopped what had happened next. Surely it couldn't be a healthy and mature way of dealing with their emotions. But he hadn't stopped it; he never seemed to be able to. It was two weeks since that first night and Malcolm had fallen asleep in Jon's arms almost every night. It worried the lieutenant that while he was curled up against the other man he felt safe and not quite so desperately unhappy but when he left in the morning he felt emptier than before. He wished that he had the strength to break this off before things got too complicated but part of him—a selfish part—didn't want to.

Malcolm jumped as felt a hand touch his back.

"Sorry," Jon mumbled, "didn't mean to startle you."

The hand began to trace patterns on his back; it travelled up to his waist and began to make its way up his side. Malcolm smiled, his earlier thoughts forgotten as he rolled over onto his other side to face his bed-fellow. He mirrored the other man's position, using his hand to prop up his head.

"Morning," Jon smiled at him.

"And good morning to you."

Jon's hand, which had dropped back to the bed when Malcolm had rolled over, now continued its explorations, this time running up and down his arm.

"Does this..." Jon stopped and seemed to be carefully thinking about how to phrase the question, eventually he started again, "Does this do anything for you?"

Malcolm raised a questioning eyebrow, "Does what do anything to for me?"

"I mean," Jon methodically avoided his gaze, choosing instead to watch his own hand make circles on Malcolm's arm, "us -this whole thing—is it helpful to you at all?"

"It," Malcolm started, then stopped, sensing Jon's vulnerability, "makes me feel safe when I'm here with you." It wasn't a lie, only by omission, and he received a huge smile from the other man in return.

Malcolm tried hard to return it but an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. He could feel that things were changing. This kind of emotional attachment was not a good idea. Jon's question had an almost "where is this going?" quality to it and that was really not a good sign. He was still desperately in love with Trip, he just hoped that Jon understood that and that the other man felt the same about things as Malcolm. It might have been best to explain that now but he couldn't bear to dim the brightest smile he'd seen Jon give in months. If Jon was happy then great, one of them at least should be. It would be spiteful to take that away from him, and Malcolm wouldn't be that.


	5. Part 5

Malcolm felt like a small child. He was sitting on the floor of his quarters crying his eyes out. He sat huddled, with his arms wrapped around his knees pulling them into his chest and was shaking violently. He couldn't seem to stop crying and what was  
worse he wasn't even sure why he was so upset. He knew what had set him off, but this extreme reaction was puzzling. As he thought about what had happened earlier more hot tears fell down his cheeks. His eyes were stinging but that didn't seem to stop them falling.

All he'd wanted was to get some food before meeting Jon. As he'd entered the messhall he could see, over the top of the heads' of some other crew members, Travis and Hoshi sat at a table in the corner. He'd grabbed himself some food and headed over to join them. As he reached the table, however, he'd realised that they were sat  
with Trip. Malcolm had just been about to turn and leave again when Travis had spotted him.

"Malcolm," the helmsman had called, "take a seat."

Malcolm had looked over at Trip who was resolutely not looking back. Instead the commander was glaring down at his plate, and viciously spearing a piece of lettuce with his fork. Malcolm had hesitated a moment longer before sitting down.

"Good evening," he'd greeted the table, sounding about as uncomfortable as he felt.

"Hey," Travis gave Malcolm a wide smile that Malcolm couldn't help but return - Travis' smiles were infectious. After the salutations an awkward silence descended upon the table. Malcolm had felt his eyes being drawn to Trip, sitting opposite him.

"So," Hoshi said loudly, making the other occupants of the table jump, "what's everyone got planned for tonight?"

"Bed," Travis announced, leaning back in his chair and yawning as if to illustrate his point.

"Commander?" Hoshi asked, turning to look at Trip, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing.

"Got some reports to look over," Trip mumbled. He hadn't looked at Malcolm since the lieutenant had joined them.

"How about you, lieutenant?" Hoshi asked, as she brought the fork in her hand to her mouth.

Now, Malcolm had thought, might be a good time to lie. `I'm going to have some passionate, and not just a little bit desperate, sex with the captain' didn't really seem like the right response for this particular question. The only problem was that he could think of no other answer, and while his brain was frantically trying to come up with one his mouth was already answering, "I'm going to meet Jon."

Oh. And dear. `I'm going to meet Jon.' Not `I'm going to meet the captain to discuss some ideas I've had', not `I'm off to bed too,' or `the gym'. Malcolm, you're an idiot, the lieutenant thought. Travis and Hoshi looked a little surprised, but probably more because he'd used Jon's first name than anything else. Trip on the other hand, who had already seen him coming out of Jon's quarters early on the morning of their first night together, had looked up sharply at him.

Then it had happened, Trip had smiled. A wide, bright and beautiful smile, that had finally broken Malcolm's heart. "That sounds like a lot of fun," he'd said, still smiling, "Say `hi' to him from me, okay? I guess I don't see him nearly as much as you these days. Right," he'd stood up, and picked up his tray with him, "I'll see you later." Then he'd left.

Malcolm made some excuses and left as soon as he could right after that. He had made it all the way back to his quarters before collapsing onto the floor. That's where he'd stayed, crying and crying like he'd never stop. Trip didn't care. Whatever the reasons for their brake-up, Trip was now over it. He was fine and not even the possibility that Malcolm might be involved with his best friend bothered him.

"Malcolm?" it was Jon, the lieutenant could hear the voice through his door, Malcolm I know you're in there. Let me in." Malcolm didn't move, he couldn't have even if he'd wanted to. "Malcolm, please. I'll just override the security lock and come in anyway. I'm worried about you." That was true, Malcolm could hear a note of panic in the other man's voice. He still didn't move.

Eventually the lieutenant heard the door open. Jon was at his side in an instant, he knelt down next to Malcolm and reached out to him. "Malcolm, what the hell happened?"

Malcolm could only shake his head, not really sure what he was denying, perhaps that there was anything wrong. "Come on, Malcolm," Jon said, his voicing soothing, "tell me, I know already that it's about Trip. It must be."

"I saw him in the mess and I told him I was coming to see you," Malcolm managed after a few false starts and a lot of stuttering.

"What did he say?" Jon asked, his voice now taking on a hard edge.

"Nothing, he smiled," Malcolm all but wailed a fresh wave of disappear washing over him, "he didn't care, he doesn't care," he repeated over and over. Malcolm let himself be pulled down into Jon's lap and could feel the other man stroking his hair gently  
and whispering soothing words to him. "I'm sorry, I can't believe I'm reacting like this, I don't know what's wrong with me," Malcolm sobbed into Jon's uniform.

"Shhhh," Jon said softly, not stopping running his hand through the lieutenant's hair. "It's okay, you just haven't been sleeping and you're under so much stress at the moment, and you miss and love him, it's perfectly understandable."

It was perhaps not the right answer because a new wave of sobbing took hold of Malcolm and Jon held him more tightly. The captain stared across Malcolm's quarters at the far wall; he cradled Malcolm's head in his lap and ran his hands through the soft, brown hair, whispering nonsensical comfort. They stayed like that for a long time until finally Malcolm pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked Jon in the eye. Jon looked tired and worried but there was genuine affection in his eyes, not the repulsion that Malcolm had expected and felt he probably deserved.

"Thank you," he said, his voice rough and his eyes heavy.

"You're welcome," Jon answered, with a small smile. "Why don't you go and wash your face? It'll make you feel a lot better, I'll be here when you get back."

Malcolm just nodded and staggered to his feet and stumbled into his bathroom. When he came back out of the door he found Jon standing by his bed, waiting. The captain sighed and pulled Malcolm to him and hugged the lieutenant, kissing the top of his head. Then he gently undressed him and helped him into bed. He watched Malcolm for a little while before speaking.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked.

Malcolm didn't seem able to muster a more elaborate response than a shrug. Jon nodded and quickly stripped off his uniform before turning off the lights and climbing in with his lover. It was strange and felt a little wrong to have someone other than Trip in his bed with him but Malcolm was just too tired to do anything about it.  
Besides, hearing the soft, rhythmic breathing and feeling the solid heat of the man spooned behind him was all that was keeping Malcolm together. He had never felt like he was losing himself before. That night was the closest he had ever come and he really wasn't sure what would have happened if Jon hadn't come to find him. It was a relief when sleep finally claimed him.

* * *

It was a beautiful summer's day and Malcolm blinked rapidly in the bright light. He looked about him and saw a large pond with fountains and trees with pink and white blossoms, a weeping willow brushed the surface of the water while a squirrel ran up and down its trunk.

"Where am I?" he said. He was sitting on some decking and could hear running water behind him.

"A park in Florida," a woman's voice came from next to Malcolm. He looked up and saw a woman with blond hair and slender frame. He tried to make out more of her but found that he couldn't because the sun was shining from behind her, making her face shadow.

"Who are you? And how did I get here?" he demanded.

"Elizabeth, and I would have thought that was obvious, but why are you in Florida as opposed to somewhere else? I suppose because he loved it here."

"Who is...?" Malcolm huffed at the distraction, "But it isn't possible. Is this some kind of dream? How did I get here?"

The woman laughed, it was a beautiful sound, almost like music. "I couldn't tell you that. Only that you are."

"Uh huh, you know," Malcolm said, standing up, "this whole mystical beautiful woman guide who speaks only in riddles thing will get old very quickly."

She laughed again, "You're just like I imagined, just as he said you were," her voice grew sad, "I can feel him much more strongly now that you're dead too...the pain, it radiates everything."

"Can feel who? What are you...?" Malcolm trailed off, a feeling of cold dread creeping over him. "Dead?"


	6. Part 6

"Yeah, don't you remember?" she turned her head to one side, a clear sign of her confusion.

"No!" Malcolm exclaimed. This had to be some sort of terrible dream.

"I know how you feel; it was difficult for me too at first. Then I started to remember little bits and pieces."

"There isn't anything for me to remember," Malcolm answered hotly, "This is all some sort of dream."

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Falling asleep," Malcolm answered firmly.

"Are you sure?" she took a step towards him. "Think really hard."

Malcolm opened his mouth to reply but suddenly there was something, like a tugging at the back of his mind. "I was at my station," Malcolm was speaking but not really sure where the words were coming from.

"Go on," Elizabeth urged.

"I don't know," Malcolm frowned, he felt like the carpet was being pulled out from under his feet. "I was at my station," he repeated, his frown deepening as he shook his head, "and...and I picked up something on the sensors." The image was crystal-clear now, he'd looked up into the green eyes of his lover and he'd uttered one word and watched them fill with fear, "Osaarians."

* * *

"Report," Jon barked as he entered sickbay. He looked around and found that Trip was sitting alone on a chair next to an unused console. There was no sign of the doctor or his only patient. He supposed that Malcolm was behind the curtain that sectioned off part of sickbay. It seemed ridiculous that Malcolm had been the only real casualty. A few cuts and bruises and one slight burn and that was all. How could this have happened?

Trip looked up at Jon, his eyes were puffy and dull, as he spoke his voice sounded listless, "They brought him back once. He was breathing...but...he looks so...kinda like a rag doll. They must have...He was shot too...Phlox thinks..." Trip trailed off, he seemed too deep in shock to articulate the events he was reliving in his mind. He'd been the one to find him. Him and a team of security, while the rest of the team had got on with protecting the ship, Trip had just dropped to his knees at Malcolm's side.

Jon felt sick, he concentrated on breathing and stood stock-still for a moment trying to regain himself. Trying not to let guilt overwhelm him. "Aren't you supposed to be on shift?" Jon asked the only thing he could think of.

"I..." Trip looked shocked, "I thought—"

"You should be in engineering." He knew he was being spiteful, engineering really could do without Trip for awhile, and yet Jon felt that if he couldn't be here waiting for news then neither should the commander. He added more as a justification to himself than to Trip, "We really need our engines running in tip-top condition—in case they come back."

"Fine," Trip stood a little shakily, looking hurt and not seeming mollified at all by Jon's reasoning, "I'll come back at the end of my shift."

Trip left the room just as Phlox came back into it. He looked about, clearly searching for Trip. "I sent him back to engineering,"  
Jon said defiantly, daring the doctor to say something about it.  
"I see," was the only comment he made, "I believe that Mr. Reed was in the shuttle-bay when he was over come?" Jon nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth that he might be sick. "I believe that he was shot and that was the reason for his fall from the railings. He hit his head on landing or perhaps during his fall and has broken a few bones. I assume that his attackers also continued with their assault after the fall because he—"

Jon held up his hand, he didn't want a catalogue of Malcolm's injuries, so he asked the one thing that really mattered, "Will he live?"

"I do not know, I am doing everything I can, but, Captain?" Jon met the eyes of the doctor, "I would prepare yourself for the worst."

Jon nodded, there was nothing else to say so he left the room.

* * *

"Was he with you when it happened?"

"I don't think..." Malcolm hated this, he knew that the memories were there; just out of his reach. "I think I was alone."

"You died alone?" Elizabeth asked, her voice full of shocked sadness.

"Yes, I suppose so," Malcolm answered.

"That's terrible, I'm sorry," she looked at him for a moment, "He will be devastated that you weren't together when it happened."

"Who's `he'?" Malcolm asked, confused because she seemed to think it was obvious.

"Why Trip, of course," the woman sounded surprised that Malcolm hadn't known that.

"Trip?" Malcolm asked, "Elizabeth," he said before laughing, happy that at least one mystery was solved, "and they call me a tactical officer, what was I thinking? You're that Elizabeth."

"Which Elizabeth would that be?" she asked, her tone suggested a smile that Malcolm couldn't make out.

"Trip's sister," Malcolm answered and she laughed again, Malcolm really liked hearing that sound, not least because there wasn't much laughter on the ship these days. "It's good to finally meet you. I suppose that would suggest that I really am dead then, that's a—"

Malcolm was cut off, the summer's day faded to be replaced with pain. White-hot, lacing pain. Malcolm had never felt anything like it before. It was all there was, he couldn't see where he was. He tried to scream but nothing happened, it just hurt more.

Then he was back, the running water and the birds' songs the only noise. He panted for a moment and then looked back to find Elizabeth still there.

"Not as dead as we thought then," she said, her voice caught between happy and sad.

"I don't think it will be long," Malcolm said, he didn't want to go back there. It was peaceful here, and there was just pain. "Was it like this for you?"

"There was no body to go back to I don't think."

Malcolm cursed himself under his breath, he'd known that and it was an insensitive question. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, "it didn't hurt. I just wish that Mark was here with me."

"Mark?" Malcolm asked, "And where, exactly, is here?"

"My boyfriend, he was with me, when..." she trailed off, "I don't know where we are, but I can feel Trip. Can't you?"

"Trip?" Malcolm said, "No I..." he stopped, because that was a lie, he could feel something. He couldn't explain it, it was almost like being watched and there was a Trip-ness to it. "What has this got to do with him?"

"I'm really not sure," she sat down on the decking and looked out at some ducks on the pond. "I just know that this is to do with him. I'm trapped here. He won't let me go."

"He can't," Malcolm said, "it was a great shock to him when you died."

"It's like a dream here," she continued as though she hadn't heard him, "Time passes, I can feel that it must have but..." she shrugged as she lapsed into silence.

"I know what you mean," Malcolm said, the peace in this place seemed artificial. Malcolm didn't mind, he'd take any peace he could get. He supposed that he should be more concerned at his dying, but he wasn't. There wasn't much he could do about it after all.

"How long have I been here?" she asked, startling Malcolm out of his thoughts.

"Months, I couldn't tell you exactly."

She nodded and looked out over the lake. Malcolm looked at her and noticed that he still couldn't make out her features. "I can't see you properly," Malcolm said finally.

"I think he's forgetting what I looked like, maybe I'll fade completely soon," she said, sounding almost hopeful.

"Is it so bad here?" Malcolm asked, he didn't voice his idea that it was more likely that Trip would eventually begin to look at photos of his sister again.

"No, I just..." she sighed, "I just want to carry on. Maybe I'll find Mark. It was lonely here."

"I'm sorry," it was all he could think of to say. They looked out together over the water. Elizabeth reached over and took Malcolm's hand and they sat there, feeling the sun on their backs and watching it sparkle on the surface of the water.


	7. Part 7

As the door to sickbay slid shut he didn't acknowledge it but by the time Jon was half-way into the room Trip had begun to speak, his focus still on Malcolm.

"You know, when I first met him—the way he made me feel—it was like a fairytale. It was so..." Trip turned to face the captain and stood up, his hands now at his sides clenching and unclenching. "But this ain't no story, is it?" He shook his head as he spoke, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I know it ain't because if it was then you would tell me that you ain't been fucking him for last three months," Trip pointed behind him, he waited for Jon to respond and when the other man didn't he continued, "and he would wake up," Trip's voice hitched on the last word before he spun round and yelled, "Wake up!" That seemed to take the fight out of the commander and his shoulders sagged and he began to plead, "Please, Mal, you gotta wake up."

"Trip," Jon moved toward the commander.

At the sound of his name Trip turned to look at the other man, "He's gotta wake up."

"He's going to, Trip," Jon said, slowly, putting all the confidence he could muster behind the words. He thought that if he could just say the words with enough conviction then he might be able to convince himself of it. It didn't work.

* * *

"You know you might not actually be dead," Elizabeth said, squeezing Malcolm's hand. "There might be a way you could go back to your body."

"I don't think so," the events right before Malcolm's awakening with Elizabeth were coming back now. "They were waiting for me," he said, looking at the ground. "It was my fault really; I should have waited for everyone else. I just ran straight in there, didn't even think about it. They locked the door...not sure how, come to think of it, they must have been planning this in detail since we left them. I managed to hold them off at first, I thought that I could maybe get the advantage in height...it was a mistake. I don't remember much apart from the sensation of falling."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, slowly, before continuing enthusiastically, "but you don't know that it's over."

"I don't see why I'd still be here if I wasn't...you said I was dead yourself when I arrived," he pointed out, staring out at the sparkling water.

"But I just kinda assumed that you were, but then you went back to your body," she sounded like this was very important and she spoke quickly. "It ain't like we know much about what's going on after all. Maybe you're just real sick and Trip's keeping you here and so you ain't dead yet."

"Precisely," Malcolm answered, trying not to let his irritation show in his voice, "we don't know anything about this. I mean you might just be a creation of my mind. This might be heaven for all I know."

"You ever done anything that makes you think you deserve to get into heaven, Malcolm?" she asked, although the tone was teasing rather than confrontational, "Besides, I know you can feel him. Also, if you were creating this whole thing why would I be here, and why would be in a place you've never been to?"

"Well," Malcolm started, now looking at the women out of the corner of his eye, "I might just desperately be trying to convince myself that he still cares, when I was alive I always rather felt that Trip was with me in one way or another, and finally I may well have been here. Just because I can't remember it—"

"But there's a chance you could still live!" she exclaimed, "I know if I had one of those..." she trailed off sighing.

"I wouldn't know how to go back now, anyway," he answered finally hoping against hope that she would just drop it.

"Try, concentrating on your body and, like, I don't know, will yourself back to your there," she suggested, turning her whole body so that she was facing him.

"I don't think, somehow, that that would have much affect," Malcolm raised an eyebrow to aid his `I'm not impressed' look.

"Well, you could at least try!" Liz shouted, suddenly standing up. "You want to just give up?"

"And what if I do?" Malcolm countered, standing up as well, "You know nothing about my life, so how dare you just demand that I go back to it?"

"I know that my brother is so devastated that's created this whole thing to keep you here! That's go to be worth something."

"No," Malcolm shook his head, "he created this for you."

"You're still here!" she shouted back, "He still obviously cares!"

"Cares, does he?" Malcolm snarled, "Cares enough to sleep around when we were together. Cares enough to wait all of a week before moving on to someone new. Cares enough not to give two hoots about the fact that I'm with Jon! If I'm here for any other reason than of my own making, then I'm here because of guilt. That's all." With this Malcolm stalked away.

* * *

She found him sitting under a large tree. That the park had suddenly changed into her childhood home's back garden as she'd stepped outside its gate didn't phase her, she was used to that sort of thing by now. Malcolm was pulling grass out in tufts from about his feet. "I'm sorry he cheated on you," she said as she sat down. "But, I don't think he's been thinking too straight lately."

"No," Malcolm agreed, listlessly, now just running his fingers through the green stems, "He did have his reasons. That doesn't exactly mean I'm happy about it."

"Well, no," Elizabeth said, and Malcolm could hear a trace of a smile in the words, "It does mean that you can't really believe that he doesn't love you."

"I've been thinking about that, and I've decided something," Malcolm nodded, "I don't think that I like him very much."

"Huh?" Liz asked, her head cocked to one side, in a way that Malcolm found she did when confused, "I thought you loved him and anyway what's that got to do with what we're talking about?"

"Well," Malcolm began, taking a deep breath, "while I understand why he felt he had to do what he did and while it would suggest that still loves me that does not make him right or a nice person. All in all I think it fair to say that I do love him but I certainly _don't_ like him."

"That's Trip," Liz agreed, much to Malcolm's surprise, "he does things that drive you nuts but you can't help but love him anyway. I mean, when we were at school he'd warn all the guys off me: I didn't get a date for years!" She laughed at the memory before continuing seriously, "it bugged the heck outta me, but..." she shrugged.

"He changed a lot after you died," Malcolm went back to pulling at the grass, "The last word I would have used to describe him when we met was selfish, but lately...like I say: he's changed."

"Okay," Liz nodded, "so maybe he handled things badly, but perhaps—"

Malcolm cut her off. "He never even said sorry," Malcolm said, annoyed that his vision was blurring with tears, surely after you were dead you shouldn't have to cry.

"Have you ever done something so terrible that you were too ashamed to apologise?" she asked softly.

"I'd like to say no," Malcolm smiled for the first time since she's sat down. "You really think that's what happened?"

"Knowing Trip, probably," she answered, "I think he really believes that he doesn't deserve forgiveness, and maybe he doesn't, that's for you to decide."

"I do forgive him," Malcolm answered, then corrected himself, "at least I want to."

She laughed, "That's a good start then. Besides," she said, shaking her head, "you haven't exactly been all that nice to him. What was that about Jon?"

"Ah," Malcolm sighed, "we were lovers," he answered after a moments pause. "It was something that we both needed. I suppose we could have handled our feelings better, but I don't regret it. It was just something that happened."

"And Trip found out?" she asked.

"I don't know, I think he may have suspected - there was reason too. He didn't care," Malcolm pulled a tuft of grass out of the ground and threw it away in annoyance.

"What makes you think that?" Elizabeth asked seeming unconvinced.

After a moments pause Malcolm started to explain what had happened both after his first night with Jon and in the messhall with Travis and Hoshi. To his great surprise Elizabeth had laughed then said, "And you expected him to do what, exactly? Trip's proud you know, I mean if you'd already broken up and it was his fault, what right did he have to say anything? And what good would have making a scene have made?"

"I..." Malcolm opened and closed him mouth a few times.

"It seems to me," Elizabeth continued, not seeming to notice Malcolm's reaction, "that he was doing what he had to. Just like you and Jon."

* * *

Trip sat hunched over the biobed, his chin resting on this his hands which were clasped, fingers intertwined. He listened to the steady beeping of the machines. Jon had left a little while ago. Trip figured that the other man couldn't bear to watch Malcolm like this. He understood that, Malcolm didn't really look right. There was none of energy that should be there, it was just a shell. He watched Malcolm's peaceful face. He sighed as he realised that he hadn't seen the other man look quite so calm as he did now. Trip smiled mirthlessly: it took a coma to get Malcolm to relax.

He was going to wake up. He had to otherwise Trip didn't think that he could go on. He couldn't lose them both. It was one of those ridiculously unfair things. He had never imagined that Malcolm would die and Trip would regret not telling the other man how much he loved him.

The T'Pol thing had been stupid. He had been freaked out over Liz and the possibility that Malcolm might die on this mission and had just wanted to forget. To lose himself and she had offered that. He'd just reacted like he always did. He'd thought about it a lot after Malcolm had finished with him. He wondered if that was what he'd been hoping the lieutenant would do. Had he really thought that having things this way would make Malcolm's possible death easier on him? If he had then he'd been an idiot. At the time it had made sense. He would break it off with Malcolm, get over him, and then if something did happen to the other man he would be shielded from it.

In hindsight it had been a ridiculous thing to think. Getting over Malcolm wasn't that easy, in, in fact, it was possible, which Trip was beginning to think it wasn't. Even throwing himself at Cole in the gym hadn't helped. They'd managed to get back to Trip's quarters before he'd chickened out, that had been embarrassing. But being there, in his quarters had brought back memories of Malcolm and that had the same effect on his desire as a bucket of ice. The simple truth was that he loved Malcolm, and knew now he always would.

"Come on, Mal," Trip took the lieutenant's hand and gently ran his thumb over it, "wake up. You're gonna do it whether you like it or not, and I'm gonna be here when you do. So I'll just wait right here, okay?"


	8. Part 8

"You have unfinished business," Elizabeth said, standing up and offering a hand to Malcolm.

"Yes," Malcolm agreed, taking the offered hand and standing up, "Although," he inclined his head, "maybe it would be better to just leave things as they are. It's an awful mess back there."

"You mean you and Jon?" she asked as they walked away from the tree's shade.

"Not just that, me and Trip are...what the?"

Suddenly they weren't outside anymore but standing in a room. It was messy in a lived-in sort of way. There was a desk in the corner covered in papers and photo frames. There was an unmade bed next to a small window that looked out onto a tree, sun was streaming through the glass making the room look comfortable and safe.

"Trip's room," Elizabeth stated, and at the surprise and confused look on Malcolm's face continued, "it's happened a couple of times before. It seems pretty random, but they're all places Trip liked, or felt safe in, perhaps."

"You think it's his way of keeping you safe?" Malcolm asked, he walked over to the desk and ran his finger down a picture of the Tucker family all smiling happily for the camera.

"It would make sense, Trip wants us to be safe," she sat down on the bed and looked at Malcolm. "So were you in love with Jon? Is that why it's so complicated? You love them both?"

"I don't know," Malcolm answered honestly, "I know that I wouldn't have got through this time without him. He means a lot to me, and I think that he really needs me too, and that's always a nice feeling."

"A lot of pressure, though," Elizabeth remarked, she was looking out at the tree, watching a swing move back and forth in the breeze.

"It could have been, but to be honest it was rather refreshing after Trip." Malcolm couldn't tare his eyes away from the picture of Trip, his arm thrown over his sister's shoulder, and huge smile on his face. He hadn't really realised before how different Trip's family were from his own. The love was clear.

"I can see that," Elizabeth turned back from the window, "Why are you putting off finding out if you can go back?"

"I..." Malcolm turned to look at her, "I'm scared out of my mind."

"I can imagine. I mean there's a whole mess to clean up, you and Trip—"

"If there is a me and Trip, there's no reason to think that there is," Malcolm reminded her, hating the fact that he knew this was true.

"Well, either way, you're going to have to try and figure out what you want. _Who_ you want," she added with a smirk that was evident in her voice. Malcolm was no longer disturbed by the fact he couldn't make out her face, it was almost like being in a dream. He knew who was there but he could quiet make out the face. It made it easier to talk to her somehow.

"Ah, yes," Malcolm turned back to the photo. He'd thought that he'd been understanding about how Trip felt about his sister's death. He was wrong. It wasn't like if Malcolm had lost his own sister, sad in its way, but not really all that devastating. No, this would be more like losing...he searched for an example. Hoshi, maybe, if he'd shared a life time worth of experiences with her, and grown up with her. He sighed. At first he'd been ready to comfort his lover, but after awhile he'd grown impatient. He just couldn't see why Trip was taking this so badly. But now he did, he missed Elizabeth, was sad because he had lost a huge part of his life and he was angry at himself for not being there to protect her and at the Xindi for doing something so unexpected while Trip was focused on something else entirely. "How much did you and Trip speak?" Malcolm asked after a while.

"Um," there was a surprised pause, "I suppose about once a week, less just before..."

"Ah," Malcolm said softly, looking at the photo. "I see." And he did. For the first time, he really did.

* * *

Jon was sitting outside of sickbay on the floor, and not crying. This was something of a surprise as he would have thought that that would be one of his first reactions, but it wasn't. He felt completely numb. He was being very careful not to let guilt or anger or fear or any emotion through the comfortable haze of depression. Someone had once said to him that depression was a lot like a big duvet, comfortable to wrap around yourself. At the time Jon hadn't understood that, but now he did. It wasn't pleasant, quiet the opposite really, but sort of safe and once there difficult to shake off, and he wasn't sure he wanted to anyway.

Malcolm might die. Malcolm might die and it would be his fault. Malcolm might die and he'd spent the last three months using Malcolm's body to make himself feel better regardless of the lieutenant's feelings. Malcolm might die and Jon had never told him that he'd started to fall in love with him.

Ironically he hadn't realised his feelings until Malcolm had looked up at him on the bridge and told him who was coming up fast behind them, weapons fully charged. Payback. That was all they'd really wanted. Not even in a major way, perhaps they'd learned their lesson about being too overconfident. All they'd wanted was to create some damage before hightailing it out of there. He wondered what they'd think if they knew how effective they'd been. This thought coaxed a trembling smile out of the captain swiftly followed by a dry sob. He took in a sharp breath and pushed himself to his feet. He had to keep this together. He'd been trying to work up the courage to go and see Malcolm. Now he realised that he couldn't, if he saw the lieutenant like that that would be it: he'd fall apart and there wasn't anyone to put him back together again. He had to keep this ship going, so he did what he had to do: he walked away from sickbay and away from Malcolm.

* * *

They were no longer in Trip's bedroom.

"Where are we?" Elizabeth asked, turning around in the room. "Trip's quarters on 'Enterprise'?"

"No," Malcolm shook his head, a smile forming on his lips, "they're mine."

"He felt safe here," Elizabeth said, as Malcolm sat down on his bunk.

He found himself nodding, "Yes, I can feel that."

"He felt safe with you," Elizabeth stated, walking over to the desk, the way Malcolm had in Trip's room. She picked up a photo in a silver frame. Malcolm frowned, that wasn't there in his real room. "Where was this taken?" she asked, turning with the photo in her outstretched hand.

Malcolm stood up and walked over to her and took the frame. He stared at the photo and felt a smile grow on his lips followed quickly by tears blurring his vision. "We had just gotten together; I think this was the end of some shore-leave."

"You both look very happy," she ran a comforting hand over Malcolm's arm.

"We were," Malcolm stared at the picture for a long time. He took in his own happy face. He remembered Travis insisting on taking the photo before he let Trip and Malcolm board the shuttle. Finally he looked at Trip. His beautiful Trip. He had his arm wrapped around Malcolm's waist and was clearly about to laugh, his head turned to Malcolm, who was looking at the camera. There was no mistaking the love in Trip's eyes. Malcolm nodded slowly as he put the picture back on the desk. "I think," he said, his words deliberate, heavy with decision, "I have unfinished business I need to attend to."

He didn't need to see Elizabeth's face to know she was smiling.


	9. Part 9

Trip ran his hand over Malcolm's brow, smoothing back his dark hair. He hadn't had the chance to really look at the other man since before they'd broken up. He'd forgotten just how gorgeous Malcolm really was. Trip had come here after his shifts for just under a week now and there was no change in the lieutenant's condition. Always no change. Trip tried not to think about it. Malcolm was going to wake up: it was Trip's personal mantra and he needed it to get through each day. He heard the door open behind him and he stepped back from the inert man, and spun around to see who it was.

"Captain," he said, then stood and stared at the other man. He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised that Jon was here. He had, in fact, more of a reason to be here than Trip did. That hurt and Trip felt himself wince.

"Commander." Jon nodded stiffly.

Trip frowned at the use of his rank. "Something up?" he asked, and was a little frustrated that he couldn't keep the almost challenging note out of his voice.

Jon's nostrils flared in annoyance. "Yes, as a matter of fact, there's quiet a lot 'up' at the moment."

Trip felt his jaw tighten as a wave of anger washed over him. He knew that this was silly; neither of them had done anything wrong, not really. But Trip had been fighting with thoughts of what Jon and Malcolm might or might not have done over the past few months and it was starting to get to the commander. He drew himself up before he spoke. "Yeah? Seems that it's catching," he barely stopped it being a snarl.

Jon seemed to sag at this comment. "Can we do this another time?" he asked, as he moved to the bed. "I'm not really sure I'm up to even seeing Malcolm at all; let alone having a fight with you as well."

Trip's anger dimmed, but didn't venture far, choosing instead to skulk just under the surface. "Fine," Trip managed after a moment, then nodded stiffly. He battled with himself as Jon approached the biobed. Part of him wanted to leave and not see his friend's reaction to Malcolm. He was afraid of what he might see in Jon's eyes and wasn't sure he was ready to deal with it yet. Another part was worried that something might happen when he was gone, plus he was suddenly feeling jealously protective over the lieutenant and didn't want to leave him alone with Jon. Although what he thought would happen was beyond him. A final and smaller part of Trip wanted to stay and offer Jon the support he needed. He would have loved to have been a big enough man for this. He truly would have, but knew that he wasn't. He might be able to restrain himself from actually lashing out at Jon, but that was as far as it went. It was painful for Trip to admit this. He liked to think that a year ago this might not have been the case, he wasn't sure if this was true, but it was at least of some comfort. Although, if this had happened a year ago, Malcolm would have been his. Well, at least more his than Jon's.

Jon was stood a little way from the bed breathing heavily. He had made it all the way through his shift. There was no sign of the Osaarians and he was starting to feel that they were gone for good. Plus, as there were only minor repairs to do they'd been completed quickly. This meant that there was only one thing left for him to do. He had managed to put it off since the attack, had managed to keep busy enough to not really think about it. Although he'd had to stay off the bridge whenever possible so he didn't have to see someone else at Malcolm's station; otherwise he'd never have been able to keep up the pretence. But now he knew that this couldn't be put off any longer.

Malcolm looked peaceful and Jon was relived to see that there was little visible bruising on the lieutenant's face. He sighed, Malcolm looked as he did when he slept and Jon wished that he could just pretend that this was what he was doing. He had been battling with guilt since the Osaarians had returned, and could feel that he was losing the war. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Whether he wanted to scream and rage or fall to his knees and sob. Both, he decided after a few moments of watching Malcolm's steady breathing.

Jon could feel Trip standing a little way behind him, watching him closely. He was acutely aware of this as he reached out a tentative hand to the lieutenant. Jon was startled to see that it was shaking and attempted in vain to stop it. His hand met Malcolm's pale cheek and his fingers ghosted along the lieutenant's jaw. The captain swallowed the swell of emotion inside of him.

"Malcolm," Jon said, his voice gentle, "come back to me. There's something that I have to tell you."

* * *

"Right," Malcolm said, nodding and bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. He looked around at his surroundings, feeling oddly pleased that he was back where he had started in the bright, sunny park with the sound of running water and birdsong. It really felt like he had come full circle and was now quite sure that it was time to leave.

"Right," Elizabeth agreed.

"Right," Malcolm confirmed. "I suppose I should just..."

"Yeah," Elizabeth was smiling to herself, trying not to laugh at Malcolm's awkwardness, he could tell.

"I just..." Malcolm started, "I just wanted...to say thanks. You've been so good about this. I just turned up and—"

"Malcolm," she interrupted him gently but firmly, "it's fine, I had a really great time. I'm real glad we had the chance to meet. Even if the circumstances were a little odd. And anyway," she added, leaning in conspiratorially, "you can't help the fact that you died."

"Even so, I feel like a right prat, coming in here a moaning on and on like that," Malcolm said, a rueful smile spreading across his face. He paused for a moment smiling warmly at the woman in front of him before shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Okay, well, I'm not exactly sure how this is going to work..." A nasty thought occurred to him. "Wouldn't it be rather anti-climatic if after all this, there isn't actually a way for me to get back into my body?" he asked, with a nervous little laugh.

"Heh," Elizabeth nodded, "Yeah, I suppose that it would, at that."

"Well," Malcolm said, finally feeling that he really couldn't put this off any longer, "I guess I'll be off."

"Bye, Malcolm." Elizabeth moved forward and pulled Malcolm into a tight hug. "You'll look after that idiot of a brother for me?"

"I'll try my best," Malcolm promised, squeezing her tight once before stepping back. "Well, then, goodbye."

Malcolm closed his eyes; he could picture his body and thought about going back to it. He resisted the urge to click his heels and say 'there's no place like home' but only barely. Malcolm would never exactly be able to describe the way it felt to move from one place to the other. It was as if the bright sunny day began to melt, like water had been spilt over a watercolour painting, before everything turned to black. The overriding feeling when began to regain consciousness was of pain. It was a bone-deep ache all over his body. "Ouch," he mumbled, trying to blink his eyes open.

"Malcolm?" a voice to his left said, it was full of shock.

"Malcolm, baby?" a second voice on his other side, a dip in the bed accompanied the words, Malcolm got the impression someone had leant forward and put both hands on his bed next to him.

"Malcolm? Come on now, open your eyes." A commanding voice, Malcolm found himself complying before he even thought about it. That was until a more surly side of him complained that he was tired and he would not be opening his eyes anytime soon, thank you very much, not when there was a chance of putting off the inevitable pain that was slowly escalating throughout his body.

"Mal?" this second voice was a lot more unsure, almost scared sounding and it trembled, "Honey, can you hear me?"

'Honey'? Malcolm had never really understood people's desire to call each other affectionately after food. It was, actually, rather annoying and was not making him any more inclined to open his eyes. The French actually called each other 'my little cabbage', his old French teacher had told him...

Slowly his body was sending him reports, and he could dimly feel his mind screaming something about this whole situation that was very important, but for the moment he was more interested in checking numbers of toes and finding out how much it was possible for one man to ache. The answer was; a hell of a lot more than should really be allowed. Surely Phlox could have given him some sort of drug, he'd been on death's door step after all with one hand reached out to ring the bell, wasn't it customary to 'make him as comfortable as possible'?

Phlox. Enterprise. The captain of which was Jonathan Archer and Chief Engineer was none other than Charles Tucker the Third. It suddenly became clear who it was that was ordering and begging him to open his eyes respectively. The screaming voice in the back of his mind was now informing that if only he had listened earlier it might have been possible to come up with some sort of plan, but as it was there was no choice for him but to open his eyes, and he could jolly well just deal with it himself.

Malcolm's eyes fluttered open. Why was it so bright in here? Maybe it was something to do with Denoblian physiology; Phlox needed bright light for some reason, like a plant maybe. Malcolm's mind skitted around more ideas as to why it was so bight in sickbay in the hopes that he would be able to avoid the two men now looming over him. The only good thing about this was that they were blocking out some of the glare.

"Hey," Malcolm croaked. Having never woken up from a coma to be greeted by two superior officers both of whom had seen him naked on a regular basis over the last year before he wasn't sure if this was the appropriate opening but it would just have to do.

"Doc, hey, Doc!" Trip had twisted around and was now shouting over his shoulder. He quickly spun back and looked with wide, blue, disbelieving eyes down at Malcolm.

For his part Malcolm was wincing. Partly from the unbelievable amount of pain all over his body, partly at the noise and light and partly at the situation. "Wh-what happened?" he asked, not because he didn't know but because he thought it was the sort of thing someone in his position should ask.

"You were attacked," Jon answered softly, Malcolm noticed with dismay that his voice shook as he spoke.

"Mal, how ya felling? You okay?" Trip asked.

Malcolm was left unsure as to which of the people looming over him he should look at or answer, although Jon hadn't asked a question and Trip had, Jon's statement didn't seem to be something that he should just ignore. He briefly considered just pretending to have slipped back into a coma just to avoid the awkwardness of the situation, but thought this might be a little over dramatic. Luckily for him he was saved the choice, as at that moment Doctor Phlox came bustling over.

"Ah, Lieutenant!" he declared upon reaching the bed, his customary smile even wider than usual and Malcolm found he was glad of it. It was something he understood, something uncomplicated that he could anchor himself to while the rest of his emotions swirled around him. He was starting to remember things about when he had begun to regain consciousness. Trip had called him baby and honey, ignoring his personal feelings about terms of endearment; surely that was a little odd. Trip hadn't spoken to him properly for months and now this. Not only that but both Jon and Trip were here together. Did that mean they spoken to each other about him? Had they come to some sort of understanding? The two men had backed away to give Phlox a free reign and Malcolm lay there and let Phlox do whatever it was he did in these situations. "How are you feeling, lieutenant?" he asked as he ran a scanner over Malcolm.

Malcolm paused, unsure about how to answer that. Unfortunately his body seemed to over rule his mind for once and began talking without any real consultation, "I ache more than any man should have a right to ache, I'm tired, confused, worried, feeling a little sick too actually, and I need to both pee and have some water and I'm not sure which more. Oh, and I think my head might be full of cotton wool."

Phlox positively beamed down at him, "All perfectly normal. You're a very lucky man, you had us all very worried." This was part admonishment and part information.

"How long was I out?" he asked, trying to sit up a little. His head swum violently and so he lay back down, screwing his eyes shut willing everything to stop moving. This was not helping with his nausea.

"About a week," the doctor answered brightly.

"Huh, it felt like less than that," Malcolm mumbled trying to keep his stomach under control.

"Well, you were unconscious, lieutenant, time can get away from you," Phlox answered, seemingly delighted at the prospect of treating Malcolm.

The lieutenant peeked out from under the arm he had thrown over his eyes and smiled at the doctor. A rush of emotion flooded him as he realised just how much he cared for this almost relentlessly cheerful alien. As he thought about the rest of his friends on board he began to feel more than a little guilty about the fact he hadn't even thought about them while he was with Elizabeth, and he had accused Trip of being selfish. Not for the first time Malcolm scolded himself about his inability to ask his friends for help when he needed it. Maybe if he had turned to Hoshi or Travis or even Phlox none of this would have happened. He sighed heavily. Never mind, it was much too late now.

"Is he okay, Doc?" Trip asked, the impatience clear in his voice.

Phlox opened his mouth to reply his smile wide when suddenly he seemed to notice the two men standing watching him and the terrified look on Malcolm's face. "Not...quite," the Denoblian answered, clearly thinking fast, "I believe that it would be best if the two of you left and came back tomorrow, I will need to run...tests and ask...questions." Clearly lying was not one of Doctor Phlox's strengths, even so Malcolm felt that if he'd have felt strong enough and it wouldn't have blown his cover he would have leapt from his bed and pulled Phlox into the biggest hug of his life. He promised himself he would never complain about the doctor's treatment or decon or...anything ever again. In fact he was quiet sure, at that moment, that he would marry the fine doctor should he have asked. Phlox would keep him safe from Jon and Trip and that was worth anything. Anything at all.

"What's wrong?"

"What's happened?" both Trip and Jon had moved towards the bed, brows creased in worry. Malcolm concentrated on seeming ill enough to make them leave but not so ill they would worry.

"The lieutenant will be fine. I simply think it best that he be left alone so I can be certain of my findings," Phlox seemed more confident now he'd had some time to think.

"When can I come back?" Trip seemed defiant, like he would only be kept away for the minimum amount of time.

"I think," Phlox looked briefly at Malcolm, "no sooner than eighteen hundred hours tomorrow, I should have finished running all the tests by then, but I cannot, I'm afraid, be sure." Malcolm was surprised with the speed at which Phlox's deception was improving, he felt vaguely guilty for leading the doctor astray but he was aching too much and was way too tired to really care.

"What?" Trip yelped, sounding outraged.

"Surely, we can come back just to visit him before that?" Jon asked, slightly more reasonably, but he seemed annoyed too.

"I am afraid I simply can't permit it," Phlox did seem to regret this, and Malcolm wondered if it was just acting or whether the doctor was sad because he was dying to find out what would happen when the three men did eventually meet. Although the alien's fascination with humans had dimmed over the course of the mission it still seemed to enthral him when something he had never experienced before happened. Malcolm supposed that this would be a unique situation to study. He severely hoped that there was no recording equipment in sickbay.

"Fine," Trip huffed, he craned his neck to get a better look at Malcolm, "I'll be back, okay?" Trip now seemed a lot less sure of himself and Malcolm noticed that he seemed scared.

"Yeah," Malcolm tried for a smile and managed to wrestle his face into something resembling a look of pleasant anticipation. Trip nodded and grinned a little half heartedly and left the door swishing shut behind him.

"I'll be back too, Malcolm, try to get some sleep, and don't give the doctor a hard time, he's been working real hard to get you to wake up," Jon managed to sound worried, gently scolding, amused and relieved all in that relatively short sentence. Malcolm was amazed that anyone could feel all of those things at once, let alone convey them all at the same time. Typical Jon really, the guy felt too much sometimes.

"Yes, sir," Malcolm answered, pleased that he managed to convey fondness along with a mocking in only two words. Obviously Jon was rubbing off on him.

"Goodnight," Jon said to the room at large before walking quickly from the room.

With both men gone the room seemed oddly quiet and Malcolm looked over at Phlox. "Thanks," he said with about as much feeling as his protesting body would allow.

"You're welcome, now got some sleep." This was all Phlox said before he left too, dimming the lights behind him.

'Huh, no questions. Maybe I really should marry Phlox,' Malcolm mused before giving in to his body's very firm request that he slept.


	10. Part 10

When Malcolm woke again, his head still seemed to be full of cotton wool and he still ached all over, he groaned and rolled over hoping to make it to the loo and back again before collapsing. As his feet came into contact with the cold ground he shivered and took a deep breath before standing. His head swam violently and he sat back down heavily on the bed. He blinked a couple of times, his eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the dim light of sickbay. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move and yelped in shock, causing whatever it was to jump to its feet.

"Trip," Malcolm panted, "what are you doing here?" Malcolm was struggling to get his breathing under control and he was annoyed that he'd been caught off guard when he was feeling vulnerable.

"I know Phlox said I couldn't come back until later," Trip said, looking embarrassed and not meeting Malcolm's eyes, "but, I just...I had to be sure you were really okay."

Malcolm sighed heavily, he was in no state to be dealing with Trip right now. His head was still swimming and he felt sick, whether it was part of the tiredness or from the pain he couldn't be sure, either way he didn't want to talk to Trip. "Help me to the bathroom," Malcolm said eventually, figuring that he could sort one thing out at a time.

Trip stared dumbly at Malcolm before leaping into action. He took hold of Malcolm's arm and helped him to stand before supporting him on his short trip to the bathroom. "Listen," he said, as they reached the door, "don't tell Phlox that I came, please? I know I shouldn't have but I couldn't sleep and I figured as you were asleep it wouldn't make any difference."

"Sure," Malcolm agreed as he stumbled into the room and shut the door behind him. When he came back out again Trip was hovering nearby and dashed to his side to help him back to bed. "Thanks," Malcolm sighed, as he lay back, closing his eyes and waiting for the room to stop spinning.

"How are you feeling?" Trip asked, he seemed keen to keep talking now Malcolm hadn't told him where to go when he first saw him.

"Like hell," Malcolm muttered truthfully.

"Oh," was all Trip seemed able to say.

There was a long pause where Malcolm wondered if he should let himself just drop off to sleep again but he could feel Trip watching him and he felt too uncomfortable to do it. "How are the repairs going?" Malcolm asked in the end just to fill the oppressive space.

"They're done," Trip answered eagerly, "there wasn't really all that much to do anyhow."

"That's good," Malcolm said, although was surprised to find that he didn't even have the energy to mean it. "How about the Armoury, is everything up to date?" Malcolm was suddenly annoyed that he felt the need to keep up the image of his professionalism. What professionalism? After all that had happened over the past few months he really couldn't claim to be the same person. He knew very well that his team was more than capable of continuing without him. They wouldn't be any use on this mission if they weren't. "Never mind," he said before Trip could answer, " I don't really care, I'm not on duty."

"Never thought I'd have lived to hear you say that," Trip sounded vaguely worried.

"Huh," Malcolm huffed and it quickly developed into a cough and it took him awhile to get a hold of himself. "It's not that I _don't_ care, more that I don't have the energy to at the moment, I'm sure after some sleep I'll be back to my usual anal-retentive self."

"Here's hoping," Trip said with, Malcolm had to hand it to him, a brave attempt at humour.

Not feeling in the mood to be generous Malcolm didn't reply. He heard Trip shift about in his seat and cough nervously. Suddenly feeling annoyed with the blond engineer and tried beyond measure Malcolm asked, "What do you want, Trip? Why are you suddenly so worried that you're watching me sleep when for the last few months you haven't given me the time of day?" He didn't look at Trip while talking he kept his eyes closed and threw his arm across them too for good measure.

"I always cared," Trip answered quietly, "Every second of everyday since I fell for you. I never once didn't want to know where you were and that you were okay."

Malcolm stayed very still. He was very aware of everything around him, the gentle hum of the machines, his own breathing, the gentle warmth of the room, and Trip. So close by that Malcolm thought he could feel the heat coming from him. Malcolm didn't dare look at Trip now, this was something that he had hoped with every fibre of his being to hear again and now that he had he wished he hadn't. It was too much to deal with now and he was so tired. His question was a bluff; he'd hoped that Trip would just leave; he'd never thought for a moment that it would be met with such open honesty.

"I didn't handle things with your sister's death as well as I should have," Malcolm said after a moment, having decided that his and Trip's future was too big a conversation to have now. Instead thought he might as well get another conversation over with. Trip seemed too surprised by the sudden switch in conversation to answer so Malcolm continued, "I thought that I understood what you were going through and at first I was ready to be there for you. But I was didn't know, I got tired of being the one you took your anger out on and stopped being there for you. I was wrong and selfish, I'm sorry."

"Mal," Trip breathed, he sounded amazed, "You ain't got nothing to be sorry for! It was me that was selfish and I pushed you away. I was devastated abut Liz, but I pushed you away because...of something else. You were great to me, never anything but. I'm so grateful that you were there."

Malcolm was wide awake but his eyes were still too heavy to open and he found that he didn't want to anyway. It was easier to talk if he didn't have to look at Trip, if he didn't see him then things didn't get so confused. "Well," Malcolm sighed, "I still think that I could have handled it better, or at least tried to understand what you were going through. I know I failed you in that regard and thought it best to apologise."

"Okay," Trip said after a short pause, "I accept your apology, even though I don't think I deserve one. Thank you for telling me how you felt."

Malcolm felt a smile pull at his mouth at Trip's formality. "You know," he said after the silence had drifted on a little longer, a much more comfortable one than before, "I don't think I've ever heard you so nervous and formal before, not on first contacts, not when we first came on board Enterprise, not even when you first asked me on a date. Never."

Trip chuckled, much to Malcolm's surprise. "I never have been, there's so much that I'm afraid of right now that I can't even separate them and for the first time I'm not really sure I can handle them."

"Huh," Malcolm answered, "that's not something I thought you would ever say."

"To be honest, neither did I, but for the first time none of it seems to be in my control and the worst part of that is that it's completely my own fault."

This was very strange, Malcolm was quiet certain that Trip was talking about their relationship but to be talking about it like Malcolm wasn't even a part of it and rather just a friend that Trip had gone to to talk things over with was very odd and strangely exhilarating at the same time. "There are always things you can control," he answered slowly, "always choices, the thing to do is find out what you can control and deal with them and try to accept that whatever happens after that will happen and that at least you've tried."

A long silence followed this, Malcolm could feel Trip's eyes on him like they were burning away his skin and he tried very hard not to move or acknowledge it. He still hadn't looked at Trip and still thought it best not to but now that tiredness had fled from him it felt rude and strange not to be looking at the person he was having such an important and serious conversation with.

"I know about you and Jon," Trip suddenly blurted out.

Malcolm supposed that he should have had a more extreme reaction to this but he didn't. He simply nodded and when that made his head hurt he stopped and said, "Okay, I thought you might after our conversation in the messhall."

"I..." Trip started then stopped, then started again, "It hurt me a lot."

Malcolm briefly considered saying 'good' but changed his mind, "That wasn't our intention."

"I know. Maybe that's why it hurts so much, not so good for the old ego to think that I had nothing to do with it."

Malcolm smiled and opened his eyes and peered out from under his arm at Trip. In the soft light of sickbay Trip looked like he always had to Malcolm: home. His smile turned into a chuckle, after a moment Trip joined in. Malcolm smiled warmly at Trip, "To be honest I think that your ego could do with a little deflating."

"Well thank you very much," Trip answered with a broad grin and Malcolm wondered if, like him, Trip was remembering the times when they'd first got together when they'd spent hours making each other laugh like this.

When it happened it felt so natural that neither man questioned it, Trip just reached out a hand and ran it through Malcolm's hair a tender smile on his face. "If I'm still what you want and need even after all that's happened, Mal, then it'll make me complete. I won't never be without you, but I know that a lot's happened since we were together and I get if, even though I know you still love me, you want something else...That that love is in your past it's okay. I won't ever not love you, I know that. I do," he repeated as he looked down at the other man a smile on his lips that made his eyes sparkle in the dim light.

Malcolm didn't know what to say; he felt a lump in his throat and was so surprised that Trip had managed to so exactly explain the problem that Malcolm didn't even know how to frame in his own mind that he couldn't have spoken anyway. He could only look up at the engineer and smiled back. He took in hungrily Trip's features so familiar and so desperately missed. Malcolm felt so in love with him that he didn't think there would ever be room for anything else. But at the back of his mind a great fear made his heart beat fast whenever he concentrated on it was stubbornly not moving. A fear that what Trip was saying was true. That his love for Trip was part of the past that they would never really be able to be together again. The thought was terrifying and yet Malcolm couldn't dismiss it. Whenever he tried Jon's face would appear in his mind and Malcolm knew that he couldn't just cast aside that either, he didn't want to.

A wild and desperate longing filled Malcolm as he looked up at Trip that they could just go back to the start of all of this and be together properly. All of the things that Malcolm had felt so important at the start of their relationship seemed stupid and ridiculous after all that had happened. His fear of telling the rest of the crew, of what his parents would think, of whether they were a good match, they all seemed so petty. The arguments the two of them had had over them flashed in quick succession through Malcolm's mind, every time he'd hurt Trip over something that was so unimportant made Malcolm feel sick. Why couldn't they have just rejoiced in finding each other? Now it might be too late and their whole relationship seemed so short and sad that Malcolm felt angry at himself, at Trip, at the universe in general.

In the end he simply nodded hoping that Trip would know how much he felt for him. He swallowed and gazed up at the other man for a few moments before he remembered something. "Trip," he said softly, "I think it's time that you let Elizabeth go, let her be at peace." Maybe one day he'd tell Trip about what had happened to him when he was unconscious, but not now, not that day. For now he simply would have to hope that Trip trusted him enough to know that he only meant him and his sister well.

Trip looked down at Malcolm and the lieutenant knew that Trip understood. They smiled at each other and Trip nodded, "Maybe it is, Mal, maybe it is."

How long the two of them stayed like that looking at each other and basking in the warmth of their connection neither was sure. It might have been hours or moments but it was a time neither would forget.

"Ah, commander," a bright and cheerful voice called as the lights in sickbay came up to full light, breaking the mood and connection between Trip and Malcolm. "I thought that you would be here, despite my asking you to stay away," he paused and gave Trip a stern but not unkind look before smiling, "Now that you are, perhaps you might be so good as to go and fetch yourself and the lieutenant some breakfast, I'm sure you could both do with some."

Trip looked a little embarrassed but defiant at the same time and he smiled back before nodding his agreement. "You up to some pancakes, Mal?" he asked.

"Sounds good," Malcolm answered. He watched Trip leave and sighed heavily.

"Well, lieutenant," Phlox said and he walked over to the bed, "You seem more happy than when you woke up, I take it that I need not asked the commander to stay away any longer?"

"No, Doctor," Malcolm answered with a grin, "not any more."

"Hmmm," Phlox answered, already absorbed in running tests and checking over Malcolm.

The lieutenant lay back and sighed happily. He felt that a great weight had been lifted. Despite that fact that he was still so unsure about what was going to happen he felt that the worst was over. He and Trip understood each other. He knew that Trip would want to apologies for what he'd done with T'Pol and what had happened after their break up but Malcolm was surprised to find that he didn't need to hear it. He had always understood and besides it wasn't like he'd been completely devoid of blame for making everything worse. No, the past was just that and would stay that way. It was just the future that made Malcolm feel sick to his stomach with fear and uncertainty.


	11. Part 11

After Trip had left for his shift Malcolm immediately began pestering Phlox about when he would be able to leave.

"As soon as I am quiet certain that you are well enough, and even when you do I'm going to recommend that you do not start back at work right away and when you do that it will only be light duty. I'm not having you damaging yourself and being brought right back here, I've seen quiet enough of you, thank you very much."

This conversation went around in circles and gave Malcolm something to do for a few hours off and on. He also dozed, needing it more due to his lack of sleep the previous night. He woke for the fifth time that day to find Jon standing over his bed.

"Sorry," the captain said, "I didn't mean to wake you. Should I come back later?"

"Goodness me, no," Malcolm said, pushing himself up into a sitting position, "I mean, how much can one man sleep anyway? I've been unconscious for a week already."

Jon smiled and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better when Phlox gives me some more of that pain killer," Malcolm sighed and ran a hand over his face trying to wake himself up a little. "How goes it with you?"

Jon paused and looked at the other man seriously and Malcolm could see the dark rings under his eyes; he clearly hadn't been sleeping again. "Not too bad."

"Yeah, right. You're looking good by the way," Malcolm added with a sardonic raise of his eyebrow.

"Always the charmer," Jon said back, but a smile threatened at his lips.

"All part of my general magnetism," Malcolm replied easily, wriggling around on the bed trying to get more comfortable.

Jon's smile was a little strained but it was a least there. Malcolm was feeling even more uneasy now than he had with Trip, he didn't know what to say so he said nothing and as the silence stretched on it became more and more oppressive. "You know you woke up when I told you to?" Jon said eventually.

Malcolm looked at him puzzled, "I did?"

"Yeah," Jon nodded, "It was the first time I'd been to see you, and I just said, 'wake up, there's something I have to tell you,' and you did."

Malcolm frowned; Jon had only been to see him once? He'd been unconscious for over a week. He put that aside for the moment, deciding that he probably didn't want to hear the answer, and asked about the other part of the story, "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Jon shifted and looked down at his lap where his hands were clasped together. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Malcolm sighed, more apologies, another thing he didn't understand. "Sorry for what?"

"For using you like I did. I mean all that time I was just using your body and I didn't even think about whether it was the right thing to do, not only that but I knew how you felt about Trip and I still did it! I've probably messed up things between you two royally now. I've been so ashamed that I didn't think I had the right to see you. I'm so sorry." Jon didn't look at Malcolm while he talked, his eyes stayed firmly on his hands.

"Jon," Malcolm said softly, "look at me." Slowly and reluctantly Jon's green eyes meet Malcolm's. "Right, now listen carefully. This is what happens when you brood -trust me on this I'm an expert—things get into a spiral and all out of proportion. You did think about me, I know you did, you asked me. I told you it was all okay, in fact I'm the one who practically convinced you to carry us on. Then later you _checked_ it was still okay and in fact asked if you and me and what was happening made things better for me, and I said yes. Now, far apart from those two things, as I've already said we're both adults and capable of making decisions about our own lives." Malcolm took a deep breath and took the time to think about how suddenly and unexpectedly these deep conversations seemed to sneak up on him. It all seemed too soon after he woke up to be having both of the conversations that had scared him so much. Well, as he'd started it he may as well carry on. "Having said that, though, I don't think what we were doing was a very healthy or mature way of dealing with things. And for that I'm sorry because I should have respected you and your feelings more and not tried to simplify them, or probably, in fact, make more of them."

"Thanks," Jon said. He looked at Malcolm for a long while before he spoke again. "How," he started, stopped, seemed to gather some strength and tried again, "how do you feel about me?"

"Confused. I'm so unbelievably grateful to you for being there for me after Trip and for trusting me, but there's so much I'm not sure about too. Was what happened genuine attraction or was it just desperate need for some sort of connection and a release of tension?"

"You got me," Jon said as he sat back in his chair. He looked at Malcolm for a short moment seeming to try and sort something out before he asked, "How do you feel about Trip?"

"I love him," Malcolm answered without hesitation; there was no point in lying or beating about the bush. Jon deserved the truth. "I'm just not sure that even if we did get back together that would be the best thing for me...or for Trip come to that."

"I see," Jon nodded, he steepled his fingers and brought them up to his lips, "so to sum up: You don't know how you feel about either of us."

Malcolm sighed and looked down at his out stretched legs and the thin blanket covering them. "When you say it like that it makes it seem pretty bad."

Jon sighed, "I'm sorry, I'm not handling this very well."

"That makes two of us," Malcolm mumbled.

Jon said nothing for a moment. "I'm really happy that you're awake," he said and smiled warmly at Malcolm. A long paused followed. "I'm surprised that Trip isn't here," Jon commented looking around as though checking that the engineer really wasn't there. "He's been here every moment he could before you woke up."

"Perhaps he thinks that he should give us some space," Malcolm answered ambiguously.

"Could be," Jon agreed. "He really did seem to be worried about you. I just thought you should know, in case he doesn't get it together to tell you, I know that he still loves you. I know him and it's obvious."

"Why are you telling me?" Malcolm answered touched by the thought despite it not being needed.

"Because you have a right to know and because I care a lot about Trip and I don't want to feel like I was doing something to hurt him when I had the power not to, it'd be selfish, not that I wasn't tempted."

"You're an amazing man, Jon. A great friend, thank you."

"A friend," Jon repeated slowly. "Yes, I think I could live with that."

Malcolm frowned, that wasn't how he meant it and he opened his mouth to say this but Jon got there first cutting him off, "I don't mean that that's how I'd pick for it to be in an ideal world. But in an ideal world you wouldn't be in love with my best friend and he wouldn't love you back. We wouldn't be on this mission and we would have started our relationship with a date and got to know each other and...well, it wouldn't be like this one anyway. I just thought you should know, I mean, I can deal with being your friend, I think. I hope."

"Okay," Malcolm frowned; this conversation seemed so completely out of his control that he wasn't sure how to respond. "You know this feels a lot like a break up," he said in the end.

"I know," Jon answered. Malcolm wasn't sure if he was confirming this or simply agreeing. "I think it is," he finished.

"Right," Malcolm said, he sat completely motionless for a while, trying and take in what had happened so out of the blue. "So, you think that we should just end it?"

"I think," Jon answered heavily, "that starting something under these circumstances is a stupid idea. What I could have felt for you and you for me is not the point. I hate to do this and I wish I could change something but I can't."

"I..." Malcolm was at a loss. His pride had taken something of a knock and he tried to push past that feeling and look at what was happening objectively. "Would you still say this if we couldn't be friends?"

"I need you," Jon said simply.

Malcolm took that to mean no and nodded. "I need you too. You're my best friend."

"There you are, that's you're answer then," Jon was smiling now.

"Wow," was all Malcolm could say, he looked down at his hands which were picking at the edge if the blanket.

"Yeah," Jon answered and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. As Malcolm looked back to him he saw that the captain was sitting up straight seeming to radiate some of his old self-assurance and power it made Malcolm smile broadly to see it. "I think you need to sleep, Mal. Shall I come back in the morning for breakfast, or do you think Trip will be here?"

"I don't know, no reason why you couldn't anyway," Malcolm answered, again feeling wrong footed by Jon's change in conversation.

"Yeah, that wouldn't awkward at all," Jon said with a little chuckle. "I'll pass by see what's happening."

"That seems like a good idea." Malcolm smiled up at him as Jon got to his feet, said goodnight and left. Then he lay down and looked up at the ceiling, Phlox would be over soon to run some more checks. That conversation had been very strange and Malcolm tried to puzzle out how he was feeling. It had been awkward and unsettling, but he supposed that it did make a sort of sense. It was just that Malcolm was expecting to be able to make all of the decisions and was now embarrassed at his own ego letting him think that. He supposed Jon was right, though, and this way Malcolm didn't have to be the one to say it. All in all things had worked out for the best and he hadn't lost Jon's friendship. Malcolm smiled as he closed his eyes and was asleep long before Phlox came to check up on him.


	12. Part 12

Malcolm was pulled out of the depths of sleep by the sound of voices. They were whispering; although Malcolm would have said it was more of a stage whisper than a real whisper and so was not doing anything to lower the volume. If anything the fact that their voices were now deeper made the sound travel more. Upon closer inspection it became clear that they were arguing and Malcolm lay with his eyes closed trying to work out who it was and what they were arguing about.

"You can't wake him up, he's really tired and he's been ill! Leave him be," the first voice insisted.

"Don't be stupid, he's been asleep for ages and you know how much he hates being here. He'll be glad of the company," the second countered.

"Or he won't be, he hasn't exactly been Mr. Social lately."

"Well, all the more reason to show him the error of his ways."

"You know," Malcolm said, then grinned at the twin gasps of shock his sudden speech created, "if either of you thought that that was being discreet then you're sadly mistaken. But for your information, Hoshi, Travis was right, I'd welcome the company." Finally he cracked an eye open to look at his two guests. Travis was grinning as broadly as ever, his infectious smile turned on full blast. Hoshi was looking embarrassed as she worried her lower lip and shifted from foot to foot. Malcolm's sprits soared to see them standing there. "Take a seat," he commanded when neither of them moved for a moment.

"How you doing?" Travis asked looking around for a seat.

"Not too bad, thanks," Malcolm answered with a broad smile. "How are the two of you?"

"I'm pretty good thanks," Travis replied as he found one and pulled it up to the bed and sat down.

"Yeah, good thanks," Hoshi agreed as she too dragged a chair across the floor.

"Although," Travis answered and here his smile faltered a little, "we've been worried about you...even before the attack."

Malcolm felt another tug of guilt at excluding his friends. "To be honest, so was I," he answered after a moment's consideration, "but I'm okay now," he took in their dubious looks and smiled, "really. So, tell me everything. How are things in the armoury?"

This seemed to settle the internal debate in his two friends and they grinned happily at him. They then proceeded to fill him in on everything that he had missed while he was 'out of circulation' as Hoshi termed it.

Malcolm's mood soared with every bit of gossip and every joke that his friends shared with him. He couldn't believe that he'd ever tried to cope with his feelings alone. He should have known that far from it taking more energy then he felt he had, spending time with his friends would have reenergised him. It helped him to put things in their proper perspective. Now that they were in perspective and not just inside his head they seemed strangely small. He laughed with real feeling and the tight knot in his stomach that had been there for what seemed like forever began to uncurl.

* * *

Malcolm grinned to himself as he ran a system's check weeks later. He was inordinately pleased that he could find pleasure in the simple and routine task. Life seemed to have settled down nicely, the very air on 'Enterprise' seemed less oppressive, although he was starting to feel like a complete idiot about the fuss he'd made over his feelings. He should have been able to cope with them better, and he was feeling embarrassed that he hadn't. He was careful not to get maudlin about it though. It was just a slight twinge in his chest when he thought about it, he just comforted himself with the fact that it was over now. He chuckled about how easy it all seemed now that he could do that.

Jon looked over at him and smiled quizzically, his head tilted to one side. Malcolm shook his head and grinned back. Jon's eyes crinkled at the sides as his smile grew then he turned back around. Malcolm felt warmth spread out through his chest. He'd been to see Jon as soon as he got out of sickbay and he'd apologised for being such a prat and Jon had told him he was as much to blame. Then they'd (and here was a shocker for Malcolm) gone back to being friends. He was sure it was almost entirely down to Jon, but they really were fine now. It had been very strange at first, remembering not to touch too much, not just to lean over and hug the other man, but slowly the almost instinctual actions became less of a temptation. Now it didn't even seem strange to comm. Jon and tell him that he was feeling down and did he want to get a drink? Although Malcolm didn't do that often, he made sure Jon was doing okay every few days. It was nice, and felt right in a way it hadn't before.

He still felt lonely sometimes at night when he lay awake staring at a ceiling he couldn't see in the dark. It would pass. He told himself this often and although it hurt he knew he was right. Just as the pang he felt whenever he thought of Trip would. It would all heal in time or at least lessen a little. He could handle it. At the moment he felt that he could deal with anything. Maybe it was almost dying, maybe it was coming out of the fog of his depression, maybe it was his friends, whatever, he just felt about ready to tackle anything Jon asked of him.

He was still smiling smugly to himself as he made his way to the messhall, and when he sat down, and when he started to eat. So, when he looked up and fell headlong into a pair of amazing blue eyes he was so surprised that he just sat staring up at Trip until the Commander said, "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Err," Malcolm answered, shook his head to clear it and tried again, "No, no of course not, please do."

Trip grinned at him and sat down. The older man took a deep breath and said, "You look good, Mal."

"Umm..." _Gee Malcolm get a grip and form a sentence already!_ "Thanks, I feel good, actually. Or do you just mean I look a lot better than I did?" he asked with a grin.

"You always look good to me," Trip said softly a faint blush touching his cheeks.

Malcolm looked up at him. Trip seemed to mean it which was a little embarrassing; Malcolm cleared his throat and shifted around in his seat. "Thanks," he mumbled looking down at his plate.

Malcolm could see the change come over Trip when he glanced back up. He was about to ask Malcolm something important and it was making the commander nervous. "Mal, listen I was hoping..." he coughed and pulled his chair a little closer to the table, a habit of his when he was nervous, "I was hoping that maybe we could...well, start dating again."

Malcolm just stared at him, he had no idea how to answer that, it was the last thing he had expected Trip to say. The battle ground that was their passed relationship seemed to spread before Malcolm's very eyes at the thought. It was bloody and painful and littered with arguments and betrayal and...well, love but not the warm fluffy kind that would make him feel good to think about. It was the kind that takes hold of your guts and wrenches them from your body leaving a bloody trail in its wake. _What a completely stupid idea, Trip can be a complete a moron at times, and just when I was starting to feel good about things again._

Trip took full advantage of Malcolm's silence and ploughed on, "The way I figure it we could start again. Get to know each other all over. A clean slate, sort of thing."

"You mean," Malcolm asked raising an eyebrow, "I could forget that you slept with the alien ice queen, and you could forget that I slept with your best friend?"

Trip shook his head and grinned. "Something like that."

"You mean, you could pretend that you don't know I'm a hopeless case who can't deal with my feelings and I could pretend that I don't know that you're a hopeless case who bolts at the first sign of trouble?" As Malcolm began to list the passed hurts of their relationships, low and behold the ghosts of the battlefield got to their feet brushed themselves off and walked away. _You were a selfish bastard though, Malcolm, maybe you could try this again and show that sometimes, just sometimes you think of someone else._

"I mean that we could pretend that we don't know that it's a ridiculous idea to try and hide our relationship from everyone. I could pretend that I don't know that if I kiss you just below your ear it makes you moan." Trip was smiling lovingly at Malcolm. _And Trip does know how to drive you wild._

"You'd have to do some serious research to find that out again," Malcolm pointed out. "Does this mean I have to forget that you're the most ticklish person in the universe, especially your feet?" _That used to make you laugh until your sides hurt._

"It's only fair," Trip agreed. They smiled at each for a moment. "So, what do you think?"

_Yeah, what do you think, Malcolm? Are you capable of making a decision that won't fuck everything up for the next few years?_ "I think, Trip that it might just work." _Huh, who would have thought? Maybe you are._

Trip nodded and the look of relief in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Malcolm. _He has great eyes_. "So, Malcolm, I was wondering if you'd like to come to my quarters after your shift for dinner. I've been told that I replicate a mean casserole."

"Well, as I would certainly have no idea of whether that's true or not," Malcolm answered with a smile on his lips, "I'll have to take you up on your offer and find out."

"Great," Trip answered, "I'll look forward to finding out if you know any good dessert recipes."

"I have a feeling that you're going to love my Chocolate fudge Cake," Malcolm said, really warming to the idea. _Somewhere Elizabeth's jumping up and down squealing, you know that?_

"We'll find out tonight," Trip grinned and stood up, "Nineteen hundred hours okay for you?"

"Prefect," Malcolm agreed.

"It's a date then, see you." Trip stood for a moment just smiling, and then began to move toward the door. He turned a couple of times to find Malcolm still smiling after him before he finally made it out of the messhall. There was a moment's pause before his head reappeared, a huge grin on his face. "I forgot to ask, you're not a vegetarian or anything, are you?" he called.

Malcolm laughed. "No, Trip, I'm not."

"Great, just checking, see you then." Trip's smile was bright enough to light up the entire messhall. _What a bloody beautiful sight_

"See you then," Malcolm agreed his smile only slightly brighter. _You're a sappy bugger, Reed, anyone ever tell you that?_

* * *

> What ravages of spirit  
> conjured this temptuous rage  
> created you a monster  
> broken by the rules of love  
> and fate has lead you through it  
> you do what you have to do  
> and fate has led you through it  
> you do what you have to do...
> 
> and I have the sense to recognize that  
> I don't know how to let you go  
> every moment marked  
> with apparitions of your soul  
> I'm ever swiftly moving  
> trying to escape this desire  
> the yearning to be near you  
> I do what I have to do  
> the yearning to be near you  
> I do what I have to do  
> but I have the sense to recognize
> 
> that I don't know how  
> to let you go  
> I don't know how  
> to let you go
> 
> a glowing ember  
> burning hot  
> burning slow  
> deep within I'm shaken by the violence  
> of existing for only you
> 
> I know I can't be with you  
> I do what I have to do  
> I know I can't be with you  
> I do what I have to do  
> and I have sense to recognize but  
> I don't know how to let you go  
> I don't know how to let you go  
> I don't know how to let you go


End file.
